


the embers in your palms

by PandaFlower



Series: a blaze held in hand [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Devious children, Gen, Hashirama is getting Concerned, Hiruzen is strictly the Idea Man, Homura believes fortune favors the bold, Slightly Cracky Sequel, Tobirama's pathological inability to be mean to children bites him in the ass, do not let him enact his own plans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-13 20:38:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12992076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PandaFlower/pseuds/PandaFlower
Summary: It's not Team Tobirama until the whole gang is together. These are their stories.





	the embers in your palms

“...and that’s how I became _the_ student of _the_ Senju Tobirama,” Kagami concluded his tale smugly, crossing his arms. Three years later and it was still a fantastical tale. Heck, sometimes even he had trouble believing it, and he lived it!

Five other ten year olds blinked disbelieving back at him.

“That’s it?” Koharu asked, glaring in disgust. “I thought this was supposed to be a helpful anecdote, not a dissertation on your issues.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t help at all,” Torifu frowned and crunched a cashew between his teeth. “I still have no idea how to get accepted by a teacher.”

“What they said,” Danzo nodded.

“Yeah!” Homura exclaimed, then turned to Koharu. “What’s ‘diss-er-tation’ mean?” he whispered loudly. Koharu massaged her temples and pointedly ignored him.

Hiruzen’s face was comically scrunched in thought, stroking his chin in an imitation of his father.

Kagami pouted; it wasn’t his fault he was naturally charming and snagged a teacher early! What did his friends want from him, a miracle? He may be _the_ Senju Tobirama’s student but he wasn’t at the level of wringing miracles from thin air and stubborn grit yet. That was still Sensei’s domain. “That’s all I know! I don’t actually know how to talk to adults, okay?”

Danzo coughed something that sounded like ‘bullshit’. For the sake of their friendship, Kagami manfully ignored him. And his high pitched yelp when Homura pinched him for his language.

“You got Izuna-sama to let you poke around your Clan’s weapons vault even though you’re not allowed at your age,” Torifu dryly pointed out.

Kagami pouted more, “I only know how to talk to adults I already know.”

His _completely ungrateful friends_ let out a chorus of groans, and several exclamations of “You’re useless!”

“Wait a minute…” Hiruzen, who’d been silent so far, finally straightened, the light of epiphany dawning slowly on his features. “I got it! I got it! I know what to do! It’s all clear now!” He vibrated in place from the sheer force of his excitement, toothy, manic grin stretching ear to ear.

“Spit it out then!” Homura grabbed him by the shoulders and shook vigorously. Hiruzen soon flopped over limply in short order, dazed and dizzy.

“Stop that, you’ll make him throw up,” Danzo complained, scooching away and ostensibly out of range. Homura immediately let go with a disgusted yelp, letting Hiruzen hit the ground with an ‘oof’.

They stared at his limp body for an awkward moment.

“Oh no,” Torifu clutched his bag of cashews, “did you kill him?”

“I don’t know!” Homura squeaked, backing away.

“That’s not what a dead body looks like,” Kagami said confusedly. “He’s still breathing.” Koharu gave him a disturbed glare. “What? He is!” He gestured meaningfully to Hiruzen, who’d pulled himself up with a groan, still green around the gills. Kagami tapped his cheek thoughtfully, “Actually, he looks kind of like a zombie.”

“Zombies aren’t real,” Koharu looked a little uncertain despite herself.

Kagami wouldn’t look her in the eye. “Right, right. Of course.”

“Does anyone still want to hear my awesome idea?” Hiruzen gratefully accepted a ginger candy from Torifu. “Because I’m telling you guys, it’s foolproof!” he added, regaining some of his earlier cheer.

“We’re listening,” Danzo said grimly. “Sage knows we don’t have anything else to waste our time on.”

“Rude!” Hiruzen scowled. “See if I share my super duper awesome foolproof plan then!”

“Hiruzen, come on!” Homura whined. “We’re desperate here!”

Koharu tapped her foot impatiently, allowing the force of her displeasure and the unspoken threat of badmouthing him to Biwako do the talking for her.

“Alright!” Hiruzen grinned, “it just came to me when Kagami was rambling nonsense—” Kagami protested indignantly at this “—but it’s genius I tell you!”

“Get to the point,” Torifu said flatly, crunching another cashew.

“All we gotta do is get Tobirama-sama to rescue us and then we can be his students too!” Hiruzen beamed, throwing his arms out like ‘tadaa!’.

There was an awkward, disbelieving silence as the five of them exchanged looks, and then turned to stare at Hiruzen.

“Um,” Kagami broke the awkward atmosphere. “I don’t think it works like that.”

Hiruzen jabbed a finger at him, “It worked for you!”

“I wasted an entire afternoon for this?” Koharu muttered to herself.

“I’m never getting this time back,” Danzo muttered back in agreement.

Torifu sighed.

“That was a completely different circumstance!” Kagami exclaimed. “Where are you even going to find mortal danger in the village? That’s a stupid idea!”

“You’re all jerks!” Hiruzen yelled, stomping away angrily, Danzo reluctantly trailing in his wake. “It’ll work! Just you wait!”

The four of them watched them leave in silence.

“So,” Torifu drawled, “snacks at my place for when it blows up in his face?”

Kagami, Koharu and Homura responded with a chorus of agreement.

* * *

It happened by complete accident, not that Hiruzen would ever believe her. Koharu had just been minding her own business. Really! That was her story and she was sticking to it. Ahem, minding her own business, poking around market places for interesting bits and bobs now that commerce and trade had picked up. The village square was fairly bustling with civilian merchants these days, and no few Akimichi.

‘Markets draw Akimichi like flies to honey,’ as her father used to say.

Used to say.

But never mind that, all that fell to the wayside when she felt a light skim of fingers along her hip and a Inuzuka dashed by in her periphery. Shocked, her hand clapped to her pocket where there was a clear absence of her coin purse. Righteous fury crashed over her like a wave and she took off after the thief.

“Get back here, you dog!”

The Inuzuka cackled gleefully, clambering up the side of a building to take to the roofs. “Catch me if you can, little girl!”

Koharu cursed under her breath, all the words she’s ever heard from Danzo. To her everlasting shame, Koharu had not yet mastered the art of travelling by Tree Walking, her Clan used to live on the coast, it hadn’t been as much of a priority at her age as it was for her more in-land peers. Mouth set stubbornly, she clawed her way up the roof and took off from a running start.

With speed, fury, and sheer unwillingness to face her mother if she fails on her side, Koharu stutteringly but surely began to gain on her target.

The Inuzuka glanced back and yelped in alarm, stumbling over his feet. Koharu bared her teeth in a fierce grin, skidding onto the roof. “Got you,” she snarled.

The Inuzuka recovered his balance and dived for the edge of the roof, throwing himself over with a taunting twirl. A gray dog caught him in midair on its back and made to lope away. Koharu, fueled by her temper, leapt from the roof without thinking. Her eyes widened as she slipped on the raised lip of the roof, her ankle turning painfully.

She screamed, instinctively curling up and bracing for impact—

—only to land in a pair of arms.

She peeked up from the shoulders she was clinging to and squeaked, a bright red flush crawling up her cheeks. Oh no, oh no, she was _really_ never living this down! Senju Tobirama arched a polite brow, a shadow clone pinning the Inuzuka thief and his whimpering dog. “A little energetic, aren’t we?”

“S-Senju-sama!” Koharu flailed, just a little, before tucking her hands to her collarbone. “I-I, I almost had him!”

The Inuzuka snorted disdainfully.

Koharu’s temper snapped.

“I did, you thieving jerk!” she snarled, almost lunging out the Senju’s arms before he could adjust his grip. “Give me back my purse!”

The clone gave the Inuzuka a disappointed look until he reluctantly handed the purse over. “It was just a bit of fun,” he grumbled, his dog whining in agreement. “I don’t see what the big deal is. I wasn’t gonna _keep_ it. I just wanted to play.”

“She didn’t know you were playing, Hige,” the clone admonished, “she thought you were stealing for real. I know your Clan Head’s talked to you about this. You can’t just initiate a game without warning, you have to ask people first.”

“Fiiiine,” Hige drawled, sounding as put upon as any twelve year old could manage. “I won’t do it again. Can I go now?”

“Not without an apology!” Koharu snapped.

“What? No way!” Hige exclaimed. “I don’t apologize to girls!”

Both Tobirama and his clone rolled their eyes, hard. “You most certainly can, and will. Or your Clan’s _Matriarch_ will find out why you’re in the overnight cell _this time_.”

“Um,” Hige gulped and his dog immediately cowered, attempting to crawl behind his human. “Well, I mean, when you put it like that…”

“I’m waiting,” Koharu said, voice dangerously low. She drew herself up as imperiously as possible from her place in the Senju’s hold.

“Fine! I’m sorry!” Hige crossed his arms. “Sheesh! Touchy, touchy.”

“Just go, Hige,” the clone rolled its eyes again, letting them both go. “And stay out of trouble. I mean it.” And saying such, the clone dispelled. Hige didn’t need a second invitation, he and his dog skedaddled.

Koharu sniffed at the Inuzuka’s rapidly retreating back. “What a boor! As if I’d buy that ‘playing a game’ excuse!” Really, what did he take her for, someone completely airheaded?

The Senju looked like he dearly wanted to pinch his nose, or bury his face in his hands, or something else ridiculous that most certainly wasn’t her doing. “He’s an Inuzuka; male puppies like to initiate games that they deliberately lose with female puppies in order to get to know them better. He _was_ trying to be friendly.”

“You can’t be serious,” Koharu frowned.

Tobirama tilted his head, “Perfectly serious. Inuzuka tend to be more than a little graceless at that age but they’re rarely malicious. Thankfully, they also grow out of it.” He added dryly.

“Right,. If you say so Senju-sama,” Koharu said dubiously. Without Hige to focus on the embarrassment of the situation was making itself known once more. As well as the pain in her ankle. “Um, you can put me down now. I can stand.”

“The swelling and bruising would indicate otherwise, Utatane-chan,” Tobirama said dryly. “But if you wish.”

He set Koharu gently on her feet, instantly she pulled her injured foot off the ground and wobbled off balance. She grabbed onto the Senju’s arms to steady herself, flushing with mortification. “You know who I am?”

“Kagami talks about his friends at great length,” Tobirama crouched down, offering his shoulder for better support. A few, quick handsigns and his hands lit up green, soothing away the swelling and pain. “I understand you’re approaching the age to necessitate independant mentorship?”

Like a ray of sun peeking through the curtains at an ungodly hour of the morning to shine on her face, Koharu saw what opportunity lay before her, and soundly cursed Hiruzen for making foolishness sound vaguely reasonable. Silently, she vowed to get back at him somehow, someway, as soon as possible. Painfully. It was only fitting after fate arranged this farce of a meeting.

“Actually, I just found my mentor,” she said with more confidence than she felt. “It’s nice to meet you properly, Sensei.”

Tobirama rocked back on his heels, face a study in neutrality. “I beg your pardon?”

Koharu swallowed her nervousness, lifting her chin imperiously and squaring her shoulders. “You saved me, which means I get to be your student now.”

“Utatane-chan, that’s not how it—” and a hand was coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose and _no,_ _no, no! This isn’t how it was supposed to go!_

“There’s precedence!” Koharu insisted, hands balling at her sides. “And you know I’m friends with Kagami so we already have a good working dynamic, and I’m the best with senbon in my group, and I’m fast and smart—”

“Utatane-chan, please.” Tobirama stood up, laying a hand on her shoulder.

Koharu was determined not to sniffle. “There is precedence,” she insisted again.

“Utatane-chan.”

She forced herself to look up and, oh. That’s not rejection. Tobirama looked amused and a little exasperated but not disapproving. She felt her hopes rising despite herself.

“I was impressed by how well you kept up with Hige on the roofs, despite your difficulties with Tree Walking,” Tobirama said. “I have no problem with taking you on as a student, if you wish.”

“Really?” Koharu breathed, hushed with excitement.

Tobirama leant down, a conspiratory smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Between you and me, I think Kagami’s getting a little spoiled being an only student.”

“Oh,” Koharu grinned. “Some competition will be good for him.”

“My thoughts exactly, Utatane-chan.”

* * *

“You’re taking on another student, Brother?” Hashirama peered quizzically at the Student Requisition forms like they were written in another language and not in Tobirama’s neat, perfectly legible handwriting.

“It feels like the right time,” Tobirama nodded. “Besides, Kagami has reached the point where he needs someone to push against and Utatane-chan has shown herself to be fierce and confident in her own worth. And,” he paused, “I think he’s a touch lonely too. Becoming my student so young pulled him out of communal training with his clanmates, and while he’s benefitted from the one-on-one attention I don’t want his teamwork skills to deteriorate.”

“Aw, you’re such a soft touch,” Hashirama beamed delightedly, stamping the forms with great enthusiasm. “I’ll get these expedited forthwith!”

“Tell anybody and I’ll kill you,” Tobirama sniffed with mock severity. “But thank you, Anija.”

“Anything for you, little brother,” Hashirama said, with a fond look.

* * *

“I can’t believe you!” Hiruzen shrieked, yanking on his hair. “All that denial and you go do it anyway?! What happened to ‘it’s a stupid idea’, huh? Huh?!”

Koharu sniffed with great dignity in the wake of Hiruzen’s glare and the other’s more baffled stares. Kagami, in particular, looked torn between elated and dismayed. “Of course it’s a stupid idea. You came up with it. I just did it better.”

Hiruzen shrieked some more. Danzo leaned away from him without an ounce of subtlety, annoyance plain for all to see.

“W-well,” Homura fiddled with his glasses, “at least it’s one down, four more to go? At least it’s _some_ progress.”

“Speak for yourself,” Danzo grumbled, crossing his arms. “We’re still in the same boat.”

Torifu nudged him, “Don’t be a grouch.” Danzo made a face at him but obligingly straightened up and relaxed his shoulders.

“This is going to be so great!” Kagami slung an arm around Koharu’s shoulders, sharing an enthused grin with her. “You’re going to have so much fun with us, just you wait. We’ll iron out your Tree Walking and teach you how to walk on water and—”

Koharu shoved him with a bright laugh, “I can Water Walk better than you can idiot!”

“—and Sensei knows so much about jutsu, you’re a fire affinity right?” Kagami continued undeterred. “Sensei can get you started on the basics and intermediates, wow, I can’t wait for you to catch up and—oof!”

Kagami finally shut up when Torifu tripped him, rolling his eyes and sitting on the Uchiha much to his loud indignation.

“That’s nice,” Torifu said blandly. “The rest of us still have work to do so pipe down now.” He dutifully ignored any whining.

Danzo kicked at Hiruzen’s shin, “Less pouting, more brainstorming, monkey.”

“Don’t call me that, not a monkey,” he grumbled, flopping down on the ground.

“That is so not the point,” Koharu said, pulling Homura into the huddle.

“Pretty sure the point is that his ideas suck unless someone else is doing them,” Homura chirped.

“Hey!”

* * *

 Torifu would also maintain that it was an accident to the end of his days no matter how much Hiruzen pouted. However put out he was about Koharu’s good fortune and the resultant upset monkey, it was all wiped away. Koharu was right. The world was a ridiculous place and there was no sense in applying logic to it, it would always fail horribly.

It went like this; he was sitting at a food stall, innocently enjoying a large bowl of curry. It was fantastic curry. The balance of spices, the warm aroma, the way the heat of it didn’t hide the flavor nor overwhelm the senses. Simply put, it was the Pure Land in a bowl.

He made a mental note to come back here again.

Then it all went awry when the chef dropped a daikon radish. In bending down to pick it up he stepped on it and stumbled forward when it rolled, bumped his head into shelves and knocked over a bowl of chili powder and a rack of knives. Said bowl landed on one little Akimichi’s head, potent spice coating his face. The knives flew everywhere.

It was instant chaos.

Torifu reeled back, screeching at the burning pain in his eyes, nose, and mouth. Instinctively, he he rolled out of his seat, grabbing the cleaver heading for his face and deflecting all the other ones in his nearest vicinity. A lifetime of shinobi upbringing guiding his movements.

No Akimichi wouldn’t know how to dodge kitchen knives. The very notion was absurd.

The chef was cursing and apologizing now, the sound of his footsteps hurrying around the counter. Torifu sidestepped him, dodging his attempts to grab him even though, logically, he knew the man wasn’t going to hurt him, he just wanted to help. Logic, however, had taken a backseat to emotional instinct; instinct that was saying this man had just blinded him in three senses and threw knives at him. Logic could go hang.

More footsteps, the kind of footsteps that were a shinobi being deliberately loud so as not to startle, rather than a civilian’s careless tread. A low voice redirected the flustered chef away from the upset shinobi child, suggesting he instead take care of the knives before someone else hurts themselves.

“Hey there, stripling,” That low voice dropped into something softer, the man trying to sooth without getting close and upsetting him further. “There’s no need for brandishing weapons; you’re safe. I’ll take care of you. Is it alright if I approach?”

Torifu dropped the cleaver and did something he’ll forever be embarrassed about; he bawled. He couldn’t help it. Tears were streaming down his face, his skin was burning, his nose was burning, his mouth was burning, it hurt to _breathe._ He just, hurt.

Frantically, he scrubbed at his face with a sleeve, trying to get the chili powder off. Dimly, he registered gentle hands on his shoulders steering him back to the bench, that deep voice making soothing sounds overhead. He whined, panicked, when those gentle hands pulled his arms away from his face.

“Shh, it’s alright. I’ve got it,” the man said as a bowl was set in his lap and a hand settled on the back of his neck. “You need to rinse with milk; so take a deep breath. Can you do that for me?”

Torifu nodded, shoulders shaking with suppressed sobs. He grasped the bowl and held it up to his face. He couldn’t smell anything through his overwhelmed nose.

“Very good. You’re so brave.” The hand on his neck firmed its grip. “And, dip.”

The first touch of milk was a relief, instantly cooling the burn on his skin and in his nose. He gulped a couple mouthfuls, making sure to swish between swallows.  He whimpered when he sat up and his eyes still felt like they were on fire.

“Hurts,” he managed.

“Shh, I know. But the worst of it’s off.” A damp cloth removed anything still clinging. After another dip in the milk and a careful rub around his eyes Torifu could even manage a blink or two.

He promptly squeaked when the concerned face of Senju Tobirama swam into blurry view. Yep, the world was an undeniably ridiculous place. Really, how does this happen in a sane universe?

“Alright, stripling?” He asked, brows still furrowed.

“Yes, sir,” Torifu flushed, almost indistinguishable from the red tinge left by the chili powder.

Tobirama rocked back on his heels, face smoothing out. “That’s good. I don’t think we can salvage your curry however.” He added, mouthing twitching into something impish. Torifu blinked, swiveling to look and— _Aw man!_

The chili bowl had landed in his curry; the whole thing was dusted in a thick layer of bright red powder. It was completely inedible now. Torifu made a wounded noise. That was really good curry too!

The chef rubbed the back of his neck, chagrined. “Sorry, kid. I’d offer you a new bowl on the house but, uh, everything’s contaminated. Raincheck?”

“Okay,” Torifu sighed despondently. He probably wouldn’t have taken the offer anyway, not with the way his mouth still felt tender and raw from the overdose of spice.

“If it’s not presumptuous, I’ll treat you to ice cream.”

Torifu had to do a double take.

Tobirama pointed to an ice cream stand two stalls down. “You look like you could use it after the day you’ve had.”

There was a buzzing in the back of Torifu’s brain; what his father called the Akimichi instinct for opportunity. That same keen intuition that saw them dominate in the marketplace, in the kitchen, in battle where the slightest change in flow could win the day. And boy was opportunity knocking.

“That sounds great, Sensei!” He fairly bounced off the bench and halfway to the ice cream stall before he realized Tobirama hadn’t moved. Plastering on an innocent expression, he turned to give him a quizzical look. “Sensei? Aren’t you coming?”

Tobirama shook his head tiredly, faintly amused exasperation rising as he finally followed. “When did I become your sensei?”

Torifu widened his eyes solemnly, “When you promised to take care of me.”

“So I did,” Tobirama murmured. With slightly louder volume he said, “Don’t go overboard on the ice cream, you’ll give yourself a stomach ache and ruin your dinner.”

“You got it Sensei!”

* * *

“Another one, Brother?” Hashirama poked the Student Requisition form confusedly. “Didn’t you just get a new one?”

Tobirama shrugged. “Three’s a more balanced number than two. It wouldn’t be good if Kagami and Koharu became too dependent on the other.”

Hashirama opened his mouth, finger raised, then closed his mouth when words escaped him. “You haven’t had Koharu-chan more than a week, how is that even remotely an issue?”

“It could be,” Tobirama pointed out, determinedly serene in the face of his older brother’s suspicion. “Besides, Torifu has excellent spatial awareness and reaction time. I was impressed.”

“I’m...sure that’s what happened,” Hashirama said bewilderedly, stamping the papers. His _extremely well honed_ little sibling bullshit senses were still ringing but sometimes, it truly wasn’t worth asking. Better to let Tobirama have his way and continue on in ignorant bliss.

“That’s my story and I’m sticking to it,” Tobirama folded his arms, mouth slanted stubbornly.

* * *

“I THOUGHT YOU WERE MY FRIEND!”

“Hiruzen please stop yelling.”

“I AM BETRAYED! STABBED IN THE BACK! ABANDONED BY ALL I THOUGHT GOOD AND TRUSTWORTHY IN THE WORLD!”

“Hiruzen you’re right in my ear.”

Hiruzen took a deep breath to start another tirade when Danzo helpfully slapped a hand over his mouth. Torifu gave him a grateful look to which he nodded amicably, ignoring the rapidly purpling monkey under his hand. Hiruzen angrily flailed in his grip to no avail.

“The important thing is that Torifu wasn’t blinded forever; and it all worked out,” Homura nodded decisively, clasping his hands in front of his chest.

“I just can’t believe that worked a second time,” Koharu scrunched her face in confusion.

“I can’t believe it worked at all,” Kagami said. “You know what he told me the first time I asked to call him Sensei? That it ‘probably wasn’t wise’. I mean, different circumstances, yeah. But you guys just go with it and he lets you.”

“Don’t be jealous,” Torifu patted him consolingly. “Like you said, different circumstances.”

“Yeah, how were we supposed to know your Sensei’s a soft touch,” Homura chimed in. Kagami gave him a flat, utterly disbelieving look. “What?”

Whatever Kagami would have said was lost as Hiruzen tore free of Danzo’s grip with a desperate gasp. “I couldn’t breathe you dolt!”

“Oops,” Danzo deadpanned, completely stoic to his so-called best friend’s near accidental death.

“Back to the drawing board." Homura sighed, "Hey, Hiruzen, any more stupid ideas we can improve upon?”

“Yeah,” Hiruzen muttered bitterly. “How about we catch a tiger and impress our prospective sensei with our skills instead of playing the helpless civilian all the time?”

Koharu slapped a hand to her face, dragging it down with a muttered, “Oh my gods.” She fixed him with a baleful glare, foot tapping. “Are you going to be like this all day?”

“I don’t know,” Hiruzen sniffed. “Are you going to be a filthy plagiarizer for the rest of your life?”

In that moment, in a stunning display of teamwork, Kagami, Torifu, Danzo and Homura simultaneously agreed it was time to leave with no more than a shared glance, and some extremely graphic hand gestures about Hiruzen’s inevitable fate on Danzo’s part.

* * *

It was not an accident in Homura’s case. Contrary to Koharu and Torifu who were content to wait for fortune to fall in their laps, Homura knew precisely what he was doing. Which was a stunning leg up on Danzo and Hiruzen, gods. A more clueless duo you’d never meet for all that Danzo played the straight man.

After observing the two of them scheme and fail, scheme and fail, like a depressingly boring cycle, Homura had gotten fed up and left to fix his own problem. At least he could plan more than two steps ahead without freezing up when he got there.

It took him some time to find his quarry. He was never much interested in his daily schedule before but carefully extrapolating from _Kagami’s_ daily schedule gave him some clues. He finally found him just as the noon hours crested.

With his target in sight Homura got to work.

He took off his glasses and dropped them in the dirt. Then he stepped on them for good measure. He inspected the cracked glass and broken frame with an expert, if slightly blurry, eye; it was a really good thing he’d just grown out of this pair. That done he threw himself on the ground and rolled, getting just as dirty and disheveled as his glasses

Now for the pivotal piece, he thought. With a deep, bracing breath, he ran through a series of handsigns and jabbed both thumbs at his nose. Instantly a bruise bloomed across the bridge of his nose and out onto his cheeks. He had to quickly bend forward when blood began to drip so he wouldn’t get it in his mouth.

Then he thought better of it, letting the blood run down his face. It would sell the act better. After a moment’s contemplation he rubbed his sleeves on his face, smear the blood somewhat off onto his clothes.

Homura grinned, then poked himself on the nose to make it go away. Grinning breaks character, he told himself sternly.

With another peek around the corner, and a deep breath, Homura screwed his eyes shut and mustered up a good sob. Holding his now ruined old glasses he shuffled around the corner, trudging like it hurt to walk, with his best miserable expression. He let loose the occasional half-stifled sob, remembering that children _not_ trying to attract attention would be quiet about it.

He felt the victorious glee rise when his target took the bait and approached.

“That doesn’t work when I can feel how delighted you are.”

And the victorious glee deflated like a sad balloon.

Homura dropped the pretense. No point now that he’s been caught.  He squirmed sheepishly under Senju Tobirama’s stern demeanor. This was an unforeseen occurrence, he mused, he wasn’t used to having to account for a Sensor’s near-empathy.

“Did it at least look good?” Homura asked.

Tobirama pinched the bridge of his nose and placed his other hand on his hip. Homura waited patiently while Tobirama gave the heavens a beseeching look. His parents did this all the time and they always came around.

“I suppose you want a teacher too?” He asked, and if it were anyone else Homura would have pegged that tone as ‘helpless’.

“Yes, please,” Homura clasped his hands hopefully. “I have a lot to learn about sneaking.”

“You know,” Tobirama covered his eyes with his free hand, “you could have just _asked._ The worst I’d do is say no.”

“Are you saying no now, Sensei?” Homura attempted to widened his eyes for better effect.

“No—I mean,” Tobirama sighed aggravatedly. “You’re helping fill out the paperwork.”

“Okay,” Homura chirped.

“And you can be the one to tell Kagami and the others.”

“Done and done,” Homura nodded.

“Are there _any others_ trying to follow in your footsteps?” Tobirama demanded, scowling suspiciously.

“Wow, Sensei’s really smart,” Homura said, clasping his hands under his chin. “It’s just Danzo and Hiruzen as far as I know.”

“Right. Of course,” Tobirama said flatly. “I should have known.”

“It’s okay, Sensei,” Homura said cheerfully, patting his arm. “You are but a man.”

Tobirama sighed again, more tired than annoyed now. “Let’s just get you cleaned up.”

“Oh, that’s okay, Sensei!” Homura healed his nose in record time, pulling wipes out his pockets to clean off the blood and dirt more efficiently than his sleeves. That done he rummaged in a pocket for his new pair of glasses. “Sensei, did you know your eye is twitching?”

“Must be low on sleep.”

“Oh. You should fix that.”

* * *

“Brother, do we need to have a talk?” Hashirama asked worriedly, staring at yet another Student Requisition form.

“No,” Tobirama gritted. One eye was twitching, should he ask about that?

“You’re picking them up awfully fast, don’t you think?” Hashirama hesitantly reached for the stamp. “I know you said Kagami was getting lonely but I didn’t think you’d try to compensate with every child in reach.”

“Brother.” Twitch. Twitch.

“Uh, yes?”

“Don’t talk about things you don’t understand.”

* * *

“I’m not talking to you anymore.”

“Hiruzen, please!” Homura widened his eyes beseechingly. “It was an accident!”

“Don’t you pull that on me!” Hiruzen shouted, jabbing a finger in his direction. “I see through you! Trickster! Liar! Bane of my life!”

“Hiruzen!” Koharu growled, instantly making him shrink back in fear. “Just because you’re mad doesn’t mean you get to bully Homura about it. If he says it’s an accident then I believe him.”

Torifu and Danzo took one look at the hastily constructed innocent look on Homura’s face and shared a commiserating sigh. Kagami was slumped on the ground, looking lost, mouthing ‘ _how_ ’ over and over again. Poor guy was just now figuring out that Sensei’s indulgent ways extended beyond him.

“But he—” Hiruzen tried.

“No buts!” Koharu snapped, hands on her hips. “If you don’t like the way things are then get up and do something about it. Don’t just sit and complain.”

“Fine then!” Hiruzen shouted, fed up to the extreme. “I have a great, fool proof plan that’ll totally work and you’re all gonna eat your words! Come on Danzo!”

“Do I have to?”

“YES!”

They watched them leave in heavy silence. An errant breeze swept through the trees. Homura shivered, always so sensitive to the cold, a consequence of coming from the Wind-Fire border. Torifu obligingly let him scoot under his coat.

“Are they gonna do Plan Tiger?” Kagami finally asked, blanching.

“Most likely,” Koharu said, bored now that the drama was over.

“Shouldn’t we _do_ something then?” Torifu asked. Homura snorted from within his coat, “I already told Sensei, don’t worry about it.”

“When?” Torifu asked, bewildered. Koharu and Kagami slowly turn to eye the shivering lump in Torifu’s coat.

Homura was silent a long while.

“That’s not important.”

* * *

“I don’t know about this,” Danzo deadpanned, grimacing at the enormous ‘KEEP OUT’ signs decorating the fence around the newly dubbed Forest of Death.

“It will totally work,” Hiruzen said for what felt like the umpteenth time. “Now get over here and help me. You’re better at lockpicking than I am.”

Danzo huffed, but it wasn’t like he had any better ideas, or indeed, anything better to do with his time than enable his friend. Sure, he could be building profiles for more likely mentor candidates, this was his future on the line. Or he could be rummaging the library and just teach himself what he needed to know. That was a perfectly valid route that many of his role models pursued.

Or he could laugh while Hiruzen tries to herd a tiger.

A few quick twists and the lock popped open.

Hiruzen eagerly darts forth, perhaps too eagerly. Danzo groans and hooks a finger in his collar. “Stealth, monkey, it’s a thing.”

“Don’t call me monkey,” Hiruzen said automatically, ducking out of Danzo’s hold to run ahead. He veered sharply off the path, passing through the underbrush as easily as any midland Fire shinobi.

“Stop acting like one then,” Danzo retorted, glowering. He took care to follow in his friend’s footsteps exactly, wincing at every crackle. The Shimura weren’t quite as coastal as the Utatane but it was close enough to make no nevermind. The underbrush was different there.

“Don’t be such a party-pooper!” Hiruzen called. He hopped over a particularly large upraised root, grinning when the smell of water hit his nose. The river must be close; water sources were a sure-fire way to find animals.

“I am not!”

“Are too!”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“It’s called practicality!” Danzo finally snarled, swiping a low branch out of his way.

“It’s called being a boring, grumpy, _wet blanket_ ,” Hiruzen grinned, skipping just out of reach. Danzo let out a furious cry and launched himself at him and Hiruzen went down with a yelp. They rolled around like furious puppies, all loud noises and ineffective biting.

It took quite a bit of hair pulling, and no few jabs at the kidneys, for them to settle down. They lay in the damp leaf litter, a tired heap, gasping for breath.

“Hey, Hiruzen?” Danzo poked him, squinting blearily at the trees and the river.

Hiruzen grunted, rolling away from anymore poking fingers. His sides were quite sore enough, thank you. “Yeah?”

“Remind me what we’re doing here again?”

“To catch a tiger. Duh.” Hiruzen levered himself up and paused, a slow growing alarm blooming in his guts. “Oh.”

“That’s what I was trying to tell you,” Danzo whispered, slowly, ever so carefully sitting up, staring at the tigers clustered on the river bank who stared back with predatory stillness. Even as he spoke the biggest tiger there seemed to realize how close they were to her children and her hackles rose.

She was a very, very big tiger.

Danzo edged backwards, preparing to go for the nearest tree. Fire country tigers could climb trees as quick as anything but he bets he can run up the trunk to where the branches are too thin to support the great cat’s weight faster than she can get to them. He didn’t make it more than a couple inches before Hiruzen grabbed his arm.

“Where are you going?!” The damn monkey had the gall to hiss at him, like it wasn’t obvious. “Now’s our chance!” And that? That was no.

“No it isn’t! I wanna live!” And because Danzo was such a _good_ friend he used Hiruzen’s grip on him to yank him aside and continued yanking to escape the tiger that was suddenly _right there holy shit—_

And then they were up a tree and clinging to a thin branch like their lives depended on it. Which, what do you know, they did. This was a terrible idea start to finish, Danzo should have stayed in the village and poked around in the library were the only danger was the dust bunnies. Should have left Hiruzen to natural selection and made better friends too.

 _This would be a lot more bearable,_ Danzo thought uncharitably, _if Hiruzen wasn’t trying to act as though everything was under control._

“Okay, so we underestimated the size—”

“You underestimated the size,” Danzo muttered.

“—but we can probably still pull it off,” Hiruzen said, completely ignoring his logical point. “Now that we have her attention we can lure her.”

“Question,” Danzo shifted his grip, nervous sweat making him slip. “How are we getting it outside the Forest of Death? They built the entrances small for a reason, you know.”

“Don’t worry!” Hiruzen gave him a bright smile. “I’ve been practicing dotons with my Dad and I think I can build a ramp.”

“Right,” Danzo stared, flat and unblinking. “And how are we going to keep it from hurting anyone once we unleash it on the outside world?”

“By—” Hiruzen blinked. “That’s a good question.”

“And who, precisely, are we showing the tiger off to given there was no one near the Forest of Death?”

“Also a good question,” Hiruzen nodded sagely. “Why didn’t you ask before we did Plan Tiger?”

Danzo thunked his head against the branch, growling in aggravation, just barely holding on to his temper by the skin of his teeth. He took several deep breaths, and then some more when trying to look at the damn monkey just caused another upsurge in homicidal feelings. “Because I thought you had a better plan than see tiger; run from tiger!”

“To be fair, it is working,” Hiruzen pointed out, then cringed reflexively when Danzo just barely restrained a snarl. In the interests of not getting strangled he quickly patted down his pockets, pulling out candy wrappers, wire, and a small handful of blast powder packets.

“You got any shuriken? I have an idea,” a wide grin stretched across his face, good cheer restored once more. Especially at his friend’s sudden onset long suffering.

“This better be worth it,” Danzo muttered as he forked over a full brace.

Hiruzen hummed in acknowledgment, already gearing up to throw a blast packet at the snarling tiger clawing at the trunk below them, too smart to climb where the branches can’t support her weight. It hit the tree right in front of the tiger’s nose with a resounding _crack!_ She reared back with a hiss and Hiruzen threw another blast packet, herding her away from the trunk and onto the wider branch.

Ever the reliable if somewhat reluctant co-conspirator, Danzo tied off the ends of the wire around shuriken, passing them over two at a time. Throwing two-handed wasn’t one of Hiruzen’s best skills but he was the better marksmen out of the two of them. In short order wires crisscrossed over the tiger, pinning her, snarling and confused, to the branch.

“That’s not going to hold for long,” Danzo noted.

“It should be enough for us to get a head start. Come on.” Hiruzen dusted off his pants and held out his hand.

“Is Plan Tiger a bust then?” Danzo let himself be pulled to his feet, wobbling a bit before he steadied his chakra output.

“Yep,” Hiruzen nodded. “We’ll think of something different. With, you know, less chance of death overall.”

“How novel,” a dry voice commented above them.

Naturally, the two boys clutched at each other and screamed before even thinking to look up. Then they almost fell off the branch entirely when Danzo stopped channeling chakra to his feet in his startlement and his full weight fell on Hiruzen. Tobirama dropped down and grabbed them both by the scruff before they could do more than alarmingly overbalance.

The boys gazed down at their toes sheepishly, not quite willing to meet his disapproving glare.

“Dare I hope you’ve learned a lesson about charging into danger half-cocked?” The Senju asked, stern and dangerously even.

“Getting the right results doesn’t mean you didn’t do it wrong,” Hiruzen said promptly.

“Don’t let Saru carry out his own plans,” Danzo said at the same time.

They turned to each other with affronted glares.

“No,” Tobirama ground out, brow twitching. “Wrong. How about, don’t throw yourselves into danger unnecessarily?” The boys shifted guiltily. “How about, don’t tussle with tigers unarmed? How about,  _don’t trespass in Training Ground Forty-Four_?”

“But—but we needed to have proof of our skill!” Hiruzen whined plaintively, flailing against the grip on his shirt. “How are we gonna get a mentor if they're not impressed by us?”

“If you had sufficient skill to take on a tiger by yourselves all you would have done was prove you didn’t need further guided instruction.” Both the boys paled at that. Tobirama nodded when it seemed the lesson finally sunk in. “If you wanted a mentor, all you had to do was _ask._ The worst anyone will do is say no.”

There was a sharp snapping sound below as the tiger broke the wires, rumbling and still furious. Tobirama fixed her with a hard look edged with killing intent and the tiger immediately hunkered low. After a tense second the tiger turned and leapt for the lower branches, disappearing among the leaves.

“Whoa, how did you do that?” Danzo attempted to swivel to keep the tiger leaving in view.

“I’m the bigger predator,” Tobirama said simply, then tucked both boys under his arms. “Let’s go. We have things to discuss.”

“Uh, I don’t think I like where this going,” Hiruzen squirmed in the Senju’s grip, exchanging a nervous glance with his friend. “You’re not going to tell my Dad about this, are you?”

Tobirama was ominously silent.

* * *

“Why are we doing this?” Izuna griped under his breath to his brother, not even pretending to listen to the grand speech Hashirama was making to the crowd in front of their brand new Shinobi Academy. “What the hell was wrong with the apprenticeship system we were using? It taught, like, independence and all that shit.”

Madara grimaced and shrugged in reply. “Beats me. I don’t fancy having brats assigned to me myself. Most of them are too terrified by my reputation anyway.”

“No Aniki, that’s just your face,” Izuna deadpanned. Then he dodged the punch thrown at his shoulder.

“Why you—! We share a face!” Madara hissed, hastily lowering his voice when the people in the row in front of them turned around to glare at him.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Izuna said, expression shading sympathetically, like Madara was too slow to understand. “ _I_ am the face of perfection, and _you_ are the shinigami after a good spa day.”

No sanctimonious people in the row in front with their outraged glares and shushing fingers was going to save Izuna from being strangled. See if Madara cared about their petty, tiny opinions. He was a bit preoccupied by Izuna’s attempts to tap out that were suspiciously close to hitting him in the face. His _beautiful_ face, thank you.

Proving once again the gods favored morons, Hashirama interrupted Madara’s imminent lifestyle as an only child. What a pity, things could have been so quiet for a change.

“Do you think I included enough detail?” Hashirama sat next to Madara, leaning away from any desperate flailing on Izuna’s part. “This was kind of impromptu on my part, admittedly. We really needed this to go through before it got worse.”

“Before _what_ got worse?” Madara demanded, instantly concerned. Izuna wheezed for breath, slumping on his brother’s shoulder now that Madara had more important things to pay attention to.

Hashirama wordlessly pointed to his own brother who was surrounded by six — _six —_ squabbling brats. Which really, that was seven brats too many in Madara’s humble opinion, shamelessly including Tobirama in that estimate.

“Oh Sage,” Izuna covered his face with a hand. “Please tell me he did not agree to take on six of the little monsters at once.”

Madara cringed, “Has he never heard of saying no to children?”

Hashirama steepled his fingers, demeanor uncharacteristically serious. “You don’t understand. If I force my brother to deny children interested in learning, he will cry and murder me in my sleep. And I _never_ make my little brother cry.”

Madara had to take a moment to just—stare. Because, really? Did Hashirama even hear what he just said? He was, quite frankly, questioning every life choice that led to this moment, regardless of the fact that he usually tried to schedule frantic reassessment for before dinner. Damn it, this was going to throw his whole routine off.

“There’s something wrong with you,” Izuna said, and Madara wished he wouldn’t sound so admiring about it.

“So what,” Madara tried to collect his wits, “you’re going to tell them no _for him?_ ” He gestured to the Academy that came with such nifty social programs as assigned jounin-sensei and pre-arranged genin teams. And really, why three? Who would think springing _three_ brats on some poor bastard was a good idea? Hashirama. That’s who.

“I’m the eldest,” Hashirama said, as if that explained anything. Which, Madara had to concede because he’s an older brother too, it did.

He glanced back at Tobirama and winced at the Senju trying to seperate the girl from killing Sasuke’s impertinent brat with one hand, and consoling the one in glasses with the other. And those were clearly crocodile tears or Madara didn’t grow up with Izuna, he’d stake his life on it. The other three apparently knew what was good for them and clustered behind Tobirama, sharing a snack of all things.

“Fine,” Madara groaned. “But I better not be on the list of sensei, you hear me.”

“Right,” Hashirama chuckled, suddenly nervous. “I would never.”

 

 


End file.
